


The World is Ugly

by americanchemicals



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, Coma, Depression, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Sad Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 23:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanchemicals/pseuds/americanchemicals
Summary: He knew that it was all just banter, that everything was just joking for the camera. It didn't mean that it didn't sting. His words cut deep into his soul, chipping away at the pieces with each syllable. He laughed anyways, he knew that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, but it didn't matter. Everything was for the camera, anyways.His words shouldn't have even hurt that bad. All Shane had said was, "Don't be an idiot."





	The World is Ugly

**Author's Note:**

> massive trigger warning

He knew that it was all just banter, that everything was just joking for the camera. It didn't mean that it didn't sting. His words cut deep into his soul, chipping away at the pieces with each syllable. He laughed anyways, he knew that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, but it didn't matter. Everything was for the camera, anyways. 

His words shouldn't have even hurt that bad. All Shane had said was, "Don't be an idiot."

All Shane was doing was backing up his skeptic tendencies. It was his job to disprove every single bit of evidence that Ryan presented to him to try and prove that the supernatural existed. He had said the phrase after listening to some EVP that Ryan swore sounded like a woman saying their names, he said stuff like that all the time. Why should this time be any different?

Maybe it was because Ryan was stressed after forgetting to save hours of editing, and had been subsequently yelled at by his supervisor because  _they were on a deadline._ Maybe it was because he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night because Shane had been out doing a shoot, and he was plagued by nightmares without the warm body sleeping next to him. Maybe it was because he swore Shane and Sara had been flirting earlier by their desks, because Shane had been laughing and smiling so much because of her and not him. Shane had barely acknowledged him all day, reserve for the Post-Mortem they were currently filming. 

Recently, Ryan had found himself overanalyzing every single moment between them. He blamed his anxiety, because usually this far into a relationship things went south. Either he was too clingy or too demanding, always needing too much comfort and reassurance. Surely, Shane had to be getting sick of him and his antics by this point.

It had been exactly six days since he had told Ryan he loved him, and it was after Ryan had cried after dropping a glass of water on the floor, shattering. He had only said the three words because he was comforting Ryan.

It had been 25 hours and 14 minutes since they had last kissed, and it was only a quick peck at breakfast. That didn't even count as a real kiss. 

It had been 22 days since they last had sex. Maybe it was they had been busy with filming, or maybe it was because Shane was tired of having to look at his naked body and pretend to be attracted to it. How could anyone be attracted to him?

He had completely zoned out as Shane had gone about his hot daga shenanigans, and hadn't even noticed when he had stopped talking. 

"Ryan? You good?" his boyfriend asked, lightly bumping his shoulder to gain his attention.

"Sorry, zoned out the second you said 'Welcome to the hot daga,'" he replied, giving him a light smile. _Play it off like nothing's wrong, Ryan, there's no need to make him worry for no reason._

They plugged their merch and then concluded the episode, wrapping up filming. Feeling a familiar tightness in his chest, Ryan dismissed himself to the bathroom, where he forced himself to sit on the toilet and tell his lungs to calm down. If he cried now Shane would know, and he couldn't know. His problems already bugged the taller man enough, already consumed enough of his precious time. He didn't deserve this constant burden in his life. 

He just needed to stop being a burden. 

He got up and left the bathroom, doing his best to discreetly sneak out of the office building into the parking lot. He couldn't take the car because he had carpooled with Shane, and he couldn't inconvenience him like that, so instead he hailed a cab, giving them the directions to his apartment. He got a few messages from Shane and a few of his coworkers asking where he was, but he ignored them. He was doing everyone a favor. 

Paying the driver, he quickly climbed the steps. For once, his nerves that were constantly screaming with anxiety were calm. His erratic heartbeat was steady, and he knew that this was what he had to do. Your body increased heart rate when it was in danger, right? If he was this calm, then his own body was telling him this was the right thing to do, this would make him safe. It would improve life for everyone around him, too. 

Shane wouldn't even be that sad, he'd have Sara. Buzzfeed could easily replace him. Really, why hadn't he done this earlier? He had sure thought of it earlier. 

His phone rang, Shane's face popping onto the screen, and he let it go to voicemail. Walking into the bathroom, he locked the door, opening the medicine cabinet. Shane had some prescription pain medication in there, because he suffered from chronic headaches. Grabbing that and his anti-anxiety medication, he thought to himself,  _these will do just fine._

The effect of emptying both bottles didn't have the immediate effect that he was craving. He wanted it to be over already. The voice in the back of his head was already nagging at him, reminding him of how much of a failure he was.

_You can't even kill yourself properly._

Crumbling into a ball on the floor, he broke down, sobbing. He didn't register the sound of the front door opening, nor the sound of feet walking across linoleum. It wasn't until Shane called out his name that panic flooded Ryan's chest. _He couldn't find him like this._  

"Ryan? Where are you?" Shane sounded worried, frantic. 

He tried to be quiet, muffling his choked sobs by covering his mouth with his hand, but it only seemed to alert Shane to his presence in the bathroom. The doorknob jiggled, sticking because it was locked. Shuffling could be heard outside the door, and Ryan's head snapped up at the sound of a key turning in a lock. _Since when was there a key to this door?_

Grabbing the empty prescription bottles, he threw them in the trash. Shane swung the door open, rushing in when he noticed him curled up on the floor. 

"What the hell, Ryan? Why did you leave without telling anyone?" The taller man had sat down on the floor, and pulled Ryan into his arms. 

"You're really pale, are you feeling okay?" Shane asked after a moment, pressing the back of his hand to Ryan's forehead. His skin was clammy, and it was then that Shane took in Ryan's shallow breathing and dilated pupils. 

"I love you so much," Ryan whispered, and Shane gave him a deeply concerned look.

"I'm calling 911," he stated in response, and reached for his phone from his back pocket.

"No!" Ryan screamed, making a move for the device, but the taller man used his long arms to his advantage and kept it out of his reach. He stood up carefully, dialing the emergency service, while Ryan yelled at him to stop. He was gasping for air as he shouted, one hand clutching at his chest.

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

Giving the operator his address first, she asked him for a list of Ryan's symptoms. The man in question had stopped yelling, but instead was leaning against Shane's legs while he slowly ran his fingers through the black hair. 

"Sir, it sounds like your boyfriend may have overdosed. I need you to stay calm, the paramedics are almost there, but do you see anything around him that he could have overdosed on?" 

While he did his best to talk to the operator, he didn't notice when Ryan's leaning turned to slumping, his eyes slipping closed. It was only when he was instructed to lay Ryan on his side in case he vomited that he took note of this, and he had panicked, setting the phone down and trying to shake him awake, screaming his name. Scrambling for a pulse, it was barely there, and Shane wished he had opted-in to do the CPR training they had offered at work. 

-

"Shane Madej?" A nurse called, and Shane shot up from the chair he was sitting in in the hospital waiting room. The nurse gave him a sympathetic look as he basically sprinted to where she was standing.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but according to Ryan Bergara's healthcare proxy you are the one in charge of making decisions regarding the next steps we should take in... situations like these," she explained, motioning him to follow her into the ICU. Walking into Ryan's room, Shane's heart stopped dead at how awful he looked. It was like those medical dramas they had sometimes watched together on television, where the patient looked on the verge of death and the concerned spouse was ready to have a mental breakdown.

A doctor had walked into the room at some point, and had guided Shane to sit down in a chair that someone had pulled up. She seemed like a nice lady, but Shane couldn't take his eyes away from Ryan. 

"He's currently comatose, and on a ventilator for breathing support. As of right now, tests have shown that there's no signs of brain activity. Mr. Madej, do you know what that means?" The doctor spoke, and all Shane could hear was white noise.

"It means he's gone," he replied hoarsely, but his voice was barely above a whisper.

"As his next of kin, we need to know if you want to keep him on life support," she said kindly, but she was asking him to kill the love of his life. It was probably three in the morning at this point, and Shane wished more than anything that he could wake up from this twisted dream. Ryan, whose smile lit up the whole room. Ryan, whose laughter was contagious, even when the joke wasn't funny. Ryan, who believed so strongly, and Shane had wanted to agree with those beliefs even when they didn't make sense. 

Shane wondered, what Ryan would do in this scenario? Ending his life was basically murder, but at the same time, Ryan had wanted to die. It was like a cruel joke, there wasn't a clear right or wrong. This couldn't be happening. Why would Ryan do this to himself?

"We can give you time to think about your decision," she had said kindly, leaving him to sit there numbly in an uncomfortable hospital chair. Grasping Ryan's hands, fresh tears streamed down his face. 

In the empty room, the sound of the ventilator pumping air into his lungs, an IV drip providing fluids, Shane wished that God was real so that he could bargain. His life for Ryan's, anything to reverse the tables. He would sell his soul to the Devil, even. 

A painful thought reminded him that bargaining was one of the stages of grief, which meant that he was already a few steps closer to accepting that Ryan was dead. There was nothing the doctors could do anymore, this was as good as it was going to get. 

He should probably call Ryan's family again, to update them. They already knew that Ryan was in the hospital, but they didn't know what for, because Shane couldn't bring himself to openly say the word "suicide."

"Why didn't you tell me that you were suffering this much?" he asked the lifeless body. He almost expected a response, like Ryan's eyes to snap open and for him to rip out the ventilator and be like, "Pranked!"

Instead, his chest continued to rise and fall mechanically, filled with artificial air. His eyelids remained still, and it was like Shane was talking to an empty room. He was talking to an empty room.

"Was it something that I did? Was it something I said? Is that why you left the office so abruptly? Jesus, was it something I said during filming?" Shane questioned, knowing he was never going to get a response. He was never going to get the proper closure he sought after. 

-

Ryan's parents looked like they wanted to hug him when they had walked into the room, but he had refused to move from Ryan's bedside for the past day. Jake, Ryan's brother, had come in shortly after them, looking even more disheveled. 

When the doctor finally pulled the plug, Shane felt empty inside. 

-

He took a leave of absence from work, but knew that he could probably never return. He had gone and cleaned out Ryan's desk while no one was there, moved all his files onto Shane's own computer. Even without the physical objects, he knew that he would never be able to not be reminded about the little things while at that office. Things like how Ryan would constantly adjust his chair when he was indecisive about something while editing. How Ryan would stare at the dumb photo of them face-swapped that Shane had printed out and hung between their desks when drinking his morning coffee. How Ryan would always steal Shane's pens even when he had plenty, just because he wanted to brush his fingers against Shane's arm to get him to look at him. 

He knew the company had released a statement to the public and all that. They had asked him to sit down for a video, but he couldn't bring himself to helping them monetize his boyfriend's death. He deserved better.

-

Ryan's family had told him that they would take care of all the funeral arrangements. This would be nice, except it allowed Shane to lay in his once shared bed and overthink about everything. How nothing was worth anything without Ryan in it. They had done everything together for over a year, and he didn't know how to function without him. They had existed simultaneously in synchronization, always moving together. They barely spent a moment apart, doing everything together. 

Shane's brother Finn called him at one point, telling him that his parents and him were going to fly in from Illinois and stay for a while, for him. But he didn't want them to know how he couldn't function, could barely breathe, without Ryan by his side. He never would get to the final stage of grief.

-

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

"I'm going to kill myself."

-

Opening his eyes, Shane felt different. Lighter. He stretched his arms, standing out of bed, and walking into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Going to open the cabinet, his fingers slipped right through the handle. What the hell?

"Shane?" A tentative voice called out from behind him. 

"Ryan?" He practically yelled. Gone was the pale and clammy skin, Ryan looked as radiant as ever.

"Can you see me?" the shorter man asked, and he sounded unsure of himself.

"Why wouldn't I be able to see you?" Shane questioned, confused.

"Oh god, what have you done?" Ryan cried, and Shane pulled him into a tight hug, not understanding the question but not really caring anyway.

"Shane?" A new voice called, and his attention was brought to his brother Finn walking through the front door, parents trailing behind him.

"Shane? We brought you some food," Finn called again, and Shane pulled away from Ryan.

"I'm in here!" he called, but they all walked past him.

The sound of sirens was faint, but was getting louder and louder by the second. All of the sudden, he heard someone scream. He walked towards the source of the noise, Ryan following closely behind.

Looking into the bathroom, he registered that  _that was a lot of blood_ , and then that the body lying in the tub was the source. His mother was screaming, his father trying to console her. Finn was on the phone, and everyone was crying, and it was complete chaos. 

But when he turned to look at Ryan, who gave him a weak smile, he knew that he had made the right decision. 

-

"So now that you're a ghost, you'll admit that ghosts are real?" Ryan asked a few weeks later as they sat together on the couch.

"You don't have any proof that we're actually ghosts. Maybe we're both in comas and this is all-"

"Oh my god. You're insufferable. You're literally... Are you not capable of admitting you were wrong?"

"Ghosts aren't real, that's my stance, and I stand by it." 

 


End file.
